Monday 9 February 2009

165. The Malibu Years Pts XXII – XXIX


XXII.

I’m thinking about entering this year’s Malibu Chili Cookoff

I’ve been working on my secret seasonings.

I’m thinking of entering it undercover.

I need to think of a false name.

Like maybe Steve or Andy.


XXIII.

Surfing is big here.

Bigger than in Indiana.


XXIV.

Golf is the last refuge of the living;

that bridge between life and death.


XXV.

Often when I’m sleeping I dream of the California State Highway.

I dream about how flat and smooth and silent it is.

I imagine its tarmac and asphalt top layer cracking open.

In my dream I pull over and get out of my car.

I step over to the crack and I peer into it.

It is deep, but not that deep.

Inside I see all my family and friends.

Ex-girlfriends too.

Everyone I’ve ever known is there.

They’re all smiling and having fun.

They wave and say “Come and join us, Bill. It’s great here in this crack in the highway!”

But I never do.

I always step back from the crack and turn towards my car.

Towards the open road.

Then I wake up feeling funny.

Out of sorts.


XXVI.

I don’t ‘do’ sun.

It turns my skin

pink and

tightens it

like a snare drum.


XXVII.

I heard they were going to offer me the keys

to the city but I guess they changed their minds.


XXVIII.

I can watch porn for up to ten

maybe twelve hours at a stretch

I have one of the biggest porno

collections in California.

And that’s not me showing off.

- that’s a fucking fact.


XXIX.

Like Steve or Andy,

I need to think of a false name.

I’m thinking of entering it undercover.

I’ve been working on my secret seasonings.

I’m thinking about entering this year’s Malibu Chili Cookoff.




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